


On The Clock

by PerpetualSpinster



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:22:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27195748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerpetualSpinster/pseuds/PerpetualSpinster
Summary: The first fancy date out after having your little one is exciting and worrisome at the same time.  As much fun as you want to have, you can't help but think of your baby, but your husband helps keep your mind on having fun.
Relationships: Yahya Abdul-Mateen II/Reader
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

You check yourself in the mirror as you hear your baby girl running in the background.

“MaMaMA!” she babbles, clicking together two plastic blocks before finding you in the bathroom.

“What is it baby? Mama’s trying to get dressed.” Giving your hair a couple spritz of curl refresher, you look down at your doe eyed child. Hair slicked into two chunky braided pig tails with bobbles on the ends, chewing on her blocks while pounding the other against the wall. She is one full year of feisty energy to do what she wants and a sprinkle of charm just to get her way.

Smiling at your baby, you lean over and whisper, “Where’s Daddy, huh? Can you find Dada?” 

She lets out an ear shattering squeal and totters out to complete your mission. You take a breath and smooth out your cold shoulder plum dress, hugging your full formed curves. Excitement made your heart pound thinking about your Valentines date. 

You hold your breasts up a minute for comfort. Weaning hasn’t been easy on the baby or you, especially since your supply hasn’t naturally dried just yet. You feel like tonight will be safe though opting for a cuter bra over functional and go on to check once more that your black tights don’t have a run in them.

You grab your phone and open the camera up.

“Has your Mama sent you on a wild goose chase while she tries on her 5th dress in the last hour?” You see Yahya standing with your baby in the background of your selfie.

“I needed just a few minutes to get this lewk for the gram, tuck and suck as much as I can.” You take a couple selfies, catching the glow of your skin in the light, flipping your new wig this way and that.

The doorbell rings. 

“Finally! I didn’t think she’d show up.” Yahya sighs, walking himself and his daughter out to meet the evening’s sitter. Baby girl drops a block along the way, smacking her papa in the face frustratedly with her free hand.

“Ouch, ow Leila! Whatchu hurtin Daddy for, huh? You need to be nicer.”

She whines in his ear, rubbing her eyes of sleep as he opens the door.

A young Black woman with locs pulled into a bun smiles. “Are you Mr. Abdul-Mateen?”

“Hi, Tracey, and yes but don’t forget the II. I’m kidding, but not for real. I get it’s a mouthful though.” Yahya joshes as he leads her in. “You can leave your shoes at the front door and set your things anywhere.”

She sets her messenger bag down. “And is this little Leila?”

Tracey waves at his baby with a big smile. Leila bounces in his arms, rejuvenated by the new visitor and nuzzles her face in his shoulder.

“Aww, shy girl.” 

“Hell no.” Yahya says bluntly. “You’ll see 5 minutes after we leave, she’ll be running a gang affiliation out back if you don’t keep an eye out.”

You hear Tracey’s laughter as you come down the steps, checking the contents of your purse.

“Hello, Mrs. Abdul-Mateen! You look BANGIN if that isn’t too strong to say.”

You pose by the end of the steps. “Oh honey, I like a compliment like I like my coffee: the stronger the better!”

You both share a laugh as Yahya walks Leila over to her play pen.

“You have our numbers so if you need anything, call us. Anything in the fridge that looks like food, she will eat but we labelled her name on case. Her bedtime is coming up though so maybe within the next hour and a half, take her butt down to the ground!” Yahya taunts Leila with that last sentence and she seems to know exactly what he means.

“No!”

“Yes!”

“NO! NO! NO!” Leila shouts over and over, bouncing on her little toes and clapping her hands.

You hiss at him. “See, you rile her up and that’s why people almost thought we abducted our own child! Shit! I forgot my lipstick.” You bound back up the steps again.

“You already got some on! What do you need more for?” He calls up. “Tracey, you get acquainted with Leila, we’re almost outta here.”

You look over the bathroom sink to find you deep purple lippie that matches your dress. “In case I need to reapply!”

Yahya leans in the doorway of the bathroom before walking behind you. “We won’t be gone for that long.”

You touch up your lip one more time as he pushes your hair back, kissing on the back of your shoulder.

“AYE! If you make me mess up, I will box your big head ass. I want perfection on my face.” You warn, putting a cap on the lippie before placing it in your purse.

Yahya hugs up against you, wrapping his thick arms around your middle easily with a squeeze. “Aint I perfect for you?” He exhales in your ear, pushing his hips up in you. “You might be right about needing that cuz I fully intend on kissing it right off your face.” 

You attempt to push his embrace away. “Come on, you’ll make my tummy control roll down." 

"You don’t need that. I told you already your body is gorgeous. It made my baby girl, I’m proud of all you." 

You reach for your phone, opening the camera as you push your booty back against him. “Oh really?”

He nods, smacking your hip as he hears the flash go off. You bite back a smile, winking at catching him in a picture. 

“Take this one.” Yahya palms one of your breasts in his hands before unfurling that God given tongue of his. You can’t help but laugh as you snap the picture. He is such a trip.

“Watch it! I’m tender today. And we won’t be out that long anyway, so don’t get your hopes up.” You remind him as you gather yourself up again.

He looks at you confused. “When is there not enough time for kissing, woman?’

“We got dinner, a movie, and 3 hours to do both.” You drop your voice. “I’m not tryna pay her over 3 hours Yahya.”

Yahya kisses his teeth. “You actin like we can’t afford it.”

You stop short of heading downstairs, whispering again. “So you WANT to pay for pussy, is what you’re saying? You can have this pussy any time without a dime but you wanna pay extra to slam me somewhere other than the bedroom? Baby just pay me directly next time if that’s the life you’re living.”

You and Yahya kiss Leila goodbye and give last minute instructions before heading out tonight. The cool air hits your exposed areas quickly. 

“Unlock the door quick, QUICK!” You pull at the handle, holding yourself together until the saving click let’s you in. You slide into the seats, blasting the heat and turning on the seat warmer. Yahya looks at you like a stranger as the car warms up.

“I told you you’re doing the most looking like you tryna catch and wind up with a cold.”

“Look, this my first night out since having Leila, I am showing off and showing out!”

“We been out before…”

“When your schedule allows and when a sitter in our area is available, the best we can do is lunch. I want a paparazzi free meal that doesn’t come from craft services on a set or the snack bag of Leila’s.”

Yahya sits forward laying a hand on your knee. “Aww baby, and you look good for it. It’s just funny to me but I forget sometimes. I wish we could stay out longer but my flight in the morning-”

You shrug. “Make it up to me by pulling out of this driveway and making me feel like the baddest piece of ass you ever had.”

Yahya kisses you softly, putting his true emotion into the grip of your thigh. He knew not to ruin your makeup.

“I ain’t got no problem with that.”


	2. Chapter 2

You check your makeup in your phone’s camera for the umpteenth time, setting any microscopic hair out of place back from whence it came

Yahya sighs. “That light’s gonna blind my ass before we get there. You look good already.”

You barely register what he says, looking for your lippie again. “Last time I’m buying this color. It’s getting patchy as we speak.”

Yahya rolls the steering wheels in his hand tightly as he pulls off the highway and down the calmer streets as the destination is announced on GPS.

“Patchy? How does it get patchy when it goes on smooth?” Yahya questions as he pulls into a parking space.

“Haha! A question I wish the makeup industry would solve and eradicate, sir! You drove too fast, hang on. My nose is kind of shiny.”

Yahya turns off the engine and unbuckles himself. “Uh uh, nope. Put that down.”

He takes your compact in his hand and puts it in the glove compartment. 

“No, what are you doing! You know my skin gets oily.”

He takes your hands, resting them on your lap. “Your skin is glowy girl, not oily. You not a piece of fried chicken.”

“Yahya…” You whine before he takes your chin looking straight into your eyes.

“But I ain’t afraid to bite, so chill out. You are so fucking fine, it’s taking everything for me to not lay you out here and now.”

You lean back, feeling warm off his aggressive compliment but fighting back your smile. “You ain’t that bold…plus I’m starving, so take it easy before they give our table away.”

“That’s my girl.” He kisses your cheek quickly as he gets out to open your door for you. 

Walking into the restaurant, it appears you all weren’t the only people looking forward to a fancy dinner. 

The small blonde hostess gives you a tense smile. “How many?”

Yahya answers, “No ma’am, we have a reservation here: Abdul-Mateen?”

The woman looks over her tablet slowly. You check the restaurant and start to get worried.

“Maybe we should just try somewhere else…” you loudly whisper over the hustle and bustle.

“It’s fine, she’s got it there. We’ll be sitting down sucking on crab and rigatoni and whatever else my baby wants,” he says each word with more baby talk accent then the last.

You roll your eyes as his lips pucker at you, squeezing his mouth for a more exaggerated pucker as you settle your mouth into his.

“Ahem, I’m sorry, we had a large party before you that is finishing up, so it should just be another 20 minutes.”

Yahya’s demeanor took a cool dip as he turned back to the hostess. “My reservation was made well in advance, you don’t have a single table ready for us now?”

The hostess looks flustered as she looks around the dining hall behind her and talks into her earpiece.

You loop your arm around Yahya’s, studying his jaw tightening. Seeing him being upset stressed you out so much.

“Yah, hey?” You pat his chest softy until he faced you, glad to see him taking a deep breath. “I thought I was the only one being a mess tonight, remember?” you say jokingly.

“This isn’t mess, it’s business. I can’t control this but they damn sure can fix it.”

You bite your lip anxiously. “I know, but it’s fine.”

He checks his phone. “We won’t have time to see the movie at this rate.”

The hostess comes back. “I apologize again but we are working to clear a table right now. Please wait by the bar if you wish.”

“You got ten minutes.” He says in a managerial tone, taking your hand to head over to the bar. You sit quietly as Yahya orders something brown. “You want your usual?” he asks.

You take out your phone shaking your head. “I want my baby.”

Yahya leans over with a sly smirk. “I’m right here…” he says, as he plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.

You squirm away. “You know what I mean! I’m just going to check on our daughter.” You access the nanny cam app on your phone to see how things are at home before Yahya nabs your phone.

“Uh! Nope we aren’t parents for the next couple hours. Let the girl do her job, so I can do mine.”

He puts the phone in his pants pocket as you whine. “Yahya stop! It’s for safety!”

“It’s for coddling your paranoia, now calm down. Take a sip.” He offers you his drink but your refuse in a huff.

“I want my phone, Yahya. I’m not playing.” 

Yahya takes another sip of his drink, setting it down in front of you. His smile widens as he turns to you, spreading his legs. 

“You wanna come get it?”

You stare at him with deadly purpose as he just laughs in your face, crossing his arms patiently. Your eyes roll down to his lap with slight curiosity if it was your phone or if he was just happy to see you. 

Instead, you pick up the glass and let the liquid run through your body. “I haven’t had dinner yet, so don’t try it.”

A while later the in house band plays some cover of Stevie Wonder, making Yahya twist with delight. 

“Oh SHIT. Baby come on, let’s dance.”

You freeze at the thought as his hands reach around to rub your shoulders and puppet you to the music.

“Can you check with the hostess if the table is ready yet?” You ask deslerately before you are pulled to your feet. Yahya moves his hips like a salsa dancer pulling you in for a spin and holding you close. You can’t help but giggle at how light he makes you feel in his arms.

“I ain’t worried, they just have to wait on us now. How’s that?” He takes your hands leading you into some intricate two stepping you weren’t prepared for but thoroughly enjoyed. You all catch the attention of the others waiting at the bar and claps ensue as your dance turns into hired entertainment for the restaurant. 

Yahya hoots every time you spin.

“Girl if you had eyes on the back of your head, maybe you would understand,” he says before giving your behind an ample squeeze.

You bit his ear a little hard until he lets you go in shock. You smile, giving him a body roll for good measure.

“That’s my knockout. Come through Tyson!” Yahya exclaims, pulling you in once more for a final dip as the band finishes and applause carries around you all. You feel elation as he picks you up again quickly, holding you tight.

“Baby,” he says in your ear.

You hold him tight around the waist. “I feel amazing, thank you hun. I haven’t danced like that in forever.”

Yahya rubs your back with one hand, inching his arm out of his jacket. “That’s good, put this on.”

You smile at him with confusion. “Why? I’m not cold.”

He wraps his jacket around you anyway taking you to the bar.

“Abdul-Mateen, table for 2!” the hostess yells.

You grab your purse. “That’s us!” you excitedly head to be seated.

“Baby, wait! I’ll get the table, you go to the restroom, ok?”

Now you’re really confused. “But…I don’t have to pee…”

Yahya’s eyes search yours for an answer before he snaps his fingers. “Well yeah, I don’t know that, but your makeup, right? Don’t you wanna recheck it or something after dancing?”

You think of the patchiness of our lippie and spring into action. “You right, good looking out! I’ll be back.”

You trot to the back and follow the arrow pointing to the ladies entrance. The heavy wooden door opens to a warmly lit, floral scented restroom with sink basins that rest on top of the counters. You open your purse while checking your reflection, rubbing your lips together only to realize your color is perfectly intact. You wrinkle your nose at this fact and why Yahya mentioned your makeup in the first place until you lift your chin and the light catches your glistening skin.

“Shit. Damn oil.” Your compact is still in the car so you take his jacket off to cool down and reach for a paper towel to blot the shine away.

“Fried chicken…he tryna keep me looking crispety crunchety for sure….” You mutter under your breath before stepping back to look yourself over. 

“What the…oh hell no!” Your eyes stop at your chest as your notice stains of moisture through your dress. Although your baby was almost weaned, your body hasn’t fully gotten the cue to stop producing. 

You grab additional paper towels, frantically dabbing inside your dress and wiping the outside, making more bits of paper stick to your dress rather than cleaning the mess. Tossing the towels away, you pace in frustration. Yahya knew what happened and said nothing, why wouldn’t he say something? You angrily pick up his jacket as someone enters the bathroom and put it on.

Back at the table, Yahya looks up from his to wave you over but you only look at him and head for the exit. Two steps onto the pavement, Yahya has already caught up to you.

“Whoa, hey. What’s up?” Yahya says, stopping in front of you.

You sigh heavily. “We don’t have time to eat. I want to go to the movie.”

Yahya scoffs with ease. “Babe, it’s fine. We can at least eat appetizers and take it to go.”

You cross your arms, tapping your foot. Looking from under him, your personality grew 10 feet taller. “I wouldn’t know what the time is because you have my phone!”

Yahya’s sunny disposition sinks at your tone. “Come on now, I just don’t want you so distracted on our night out.”

“And now I got this mess all over my dress. I just wanted to have a good time.”

Yahya pulls you into him, giving you long drawn out shushing. “Now the night ain’t even over yet and you throwing in the towel? That’s not how my baby moves.”

You groan under his chin. “I guess.”

He looks down at you. “Now come on. I don’t wanna bring up a sore subject but…Imma need you to say it with your chest.”

You go to pop him upside the head but he moves out the way too fast.

“And now you tryna run? Whatcha running for Yah?!” you yell after him as he hikes it to the car.

He runs backwards away from you, looking back to check for the car. “That’s it baby, I hear you, come on so we can catch this movie!”

—

Pulling up to the theater, you both rush up to the box office requesting two tickets to the last showing of Disaster in the Sky Pt. 7. 

“I thought we were seeing Four Letter Word?” you ask as he opens the door to your auditorium. 

Yahya whispers. “We may have just missed the last showing, but this oughta be good. Can’t fall asleep in a sky disaster.”

As you take your seats, it didn’t take but ten minutes for you to know that this is not the movie for you. The acting was terrible, special effects were juvenile, and wasn’t the dumb big tit blonde archetype dated?

“You want me to get us some popcorn babe?” Yahya asks quietly, eyes transfixed on the screen.

“No, I’ll get it. Gimme your card.” 

Yahya digs in his pockets and hands it to you without blinking. The lobby is dead quiet with one lone employee working snacks. You ask for the large popcorn and candy as your stomach gurgles over the smell of hot butter in the air. After some extra pumps of butter, you slip the candy in his jacket pocket and head back to your seat. 

At first it’s hard to see but a cell phone glow that is normally unwelcome, happened to be your man’s beacon for you. As you sit down, you notice his look of concern on his face. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, trying to look over at his screen. 

“Uhh…well the babysitter called but I missed it so I’m texting her.”

You sit up in your seat. “What do you mean she called? What did she want?”

Yahya’s face senses your stress but tries to remain cool. “Baby, I don’t know, so I’m texting-”

“SHHH!” a patron of the theater hisses.

“Yahya, you don’t text after a missed call. Call her.”

“I’m not trying to stop our-”

“Gimme my phone, now!” You hold out your hand as he reaches in his other pocket for it. When you check your screen, you see two missed calls.

“YAH! She called me too!” You drop the popcorn and run out of the theater, past the snack stand and onto the sidewalk outside. The sitter’s phone rings and rings until finally you hear he pick up. 

“HEY! Yeah, what’s up we got your calls?” Yahya strides next to you, hands on his hips waiting with bated breath. 

“Uh huh….uh huh…yeah that’s fine.” You hold your forehead with the cold side of your hand to calm yourself. “And I’m sorry can you put her on FaceTime real quick?” You hold the phone out until your baby girl is on screen. “Hi, Lei! I miss you! Mommy will be home soon!” She coos with a ring toy in her mouth, barely acknowledging you. You thank the sitter again and hang up before bursting into tears.

Yahya is at your side, hugging you tight. “Come on, it’s alright. She’s fine.”

You sniffle through your words. “I don’t know what I thought would be but I just…panicked.”

“It’s ok, I was too.”

You look up at him. “Where? You were still enjoying the movie and texting her at the same time while I ran up out of there like I stole something!”

Yahya wipes a tear away. “I don’t know where you thought I was being cool. I just couldn’t move from my spot as fast as you. No way in hell was I thinking bout that movie, that movie’s dumb.”

“Really? I thought it was dumb too, but you looked like you liked it.”

Yahya shrugs cooly. “I like anything you put on a screen that big with surround sound that shakes your chair. But the night wasn’t about a movie, it was about seeing you and being with you on a lowkey romantic evening.”

You feel yourself getting upset again and look up at the stars for reassurance. “And don’t get me started on that. Yahya, I fucking milked my damn self tonight.”

“Yeah that was…wow,” is all Yahya could utter.

You squint at him with forced anger. “That was your damn fault. When I was supposed to eat, you got me up dancing and my body just shocked itself into lactation.”

Yahya takes your hand in his, examining the rock on your finger. “I didn’t mind it. You and anything your body does is beautiful.”

You snort, wiping your nose. “Yeah, while I’m blubbering snot over my baby, I bet I’m real cute.” 

The doors to the theater open as a showing lets out around you, you move out of there way against Yahya. 

“God, let’s go. I’m so embarrassed.”

But Yahya doesn’t move however, holding you out in his arms you look at him with confusion. 

“In front of all these people, I want you to know that you are the love of my life! I love you from the top of your head to the tip of your toenails!”

Yahya is practically screaming as you watch him wide eyed, trying to ignore the crowd slowing down to watch.

“Baby, ever since I met you you have been the cream in my coffee, the pillow for my head, my mint when my breath is funky! And because you love me and all I am, I want to push that same devotion and love back onto you tenfold.”

He shrinks down on one knee and looks up at you, taking your hand like an R&B superstar with a fan. You sigh to keep from laughing.

“Roxanne, Roxanne…I wanna be your man! Will you marry me and have my baby?”

You throw your head back in agony over his cheesy lines but his act was still convincing enough. 

“Yes, Jody. I love you so much!” your Roxanne persona says as he picks you up and spins you around. The crowd cheers with applause as you kiss one another. Holding his face in your hand, you smack his cheek playfully. 

“What were you thinking?” you say through your teeth.

Yahya smiles back. “Getting you back in my car to celebrate our matrimony!” 

You feel so much better walking back to the car after Yahya’s outburst. Looking up at his profile, you nuzzle his shoulder appreciatively.

“That proposal may have outdid your first one. I knew your childish ways were good for something.”

“It don’t matter to me, long as I make you smile.” Once you’re by the car, he turns you around and nudges you back, leaning his hand on the roof. He stares at you like a precious gemstone as his eyes sparkle and dance around your face. 

“What? You have something to say to me?” you ask, feeling butterflies creep up your throat.

Yahya takes your hand in his, kissing the back of it. “This was one of the best evenings I had with you ever.”

You roll your eyes. “Stop lying. I don’t like liars.”

His thumb rolls over the knuckles of your hand as he cartoonishly agrees. “Pssh, duh, I don’t either. But I’m not lying.” He touches your cheek, stealing your focus. “The way you looked when I spun you around the room at the restaurant, oooh girl, that smile has more spark than a plug!”

You grin and lowkey hate yourself for doing it on cue of his praise. But he was on a roll and you ached for more.

“And don’t think at any point tonight you weren’t the baddest mama anyone could ever have. When you thought things were going down with the sitter, I’m just glad I locked the gat at home cuz you were finna set it off!”

You puff your shoulders for emphasis. “Cuz nobody better mess with my baby!” You wrap your arms around his neck, landing a kiss along his jaw. “Not even you.”

He gives a rich laugh that only comes out for you when he starts to feeling a little nasty. “Oh, but I don’t get no protection?”

You shake your head. “None. You can handle yourself,”

The kiss you share is erotic. Tongues flipping around one another as Yahya’s hands reach under his jacket you’re wearing, pulling you against him with a soft moan. 

“Come here,” he says as you follow him to the back of the car, he lifts you on the trunk. He settles between your legs, rubbing his wide hands across your hips and ass, tonguing down your neck. You arch against him, opening your eyes to stars above you and slowly leaning back as you caress the back of his head. Yahya takes his fingers inside the fabric covering your breast to expose your nipple to him.

“You wanna bet I can get something from you?” Yahya twiddles with your nipple to bring it erect.

“I doubt, but try it anyway,” you say with a wink. He cups your mound as he licks around your areola then latching his thick lips around it.

As you writhe under him, Yahya leads his hands between your legs, feeling you through your tights. 

“I told you not to wear these,” he growls, sticking both hands under your dress to pull them and your panties down with one swoop, making you yip in shock.

You try to close your legs, but Yahya wide frame doesn’t allow it. “No,no wait. I’m not fucking in public!”

Yahya looks around the car to the surrounding area. “Nobody’s here. They all still in the movie.” Without waiting for your answer, he spreads your legs wider until your thighs are almost lying flat on either side of you like a butterflied chicken.

“Yahya, wait. I still-”

When his head disappears below you, you felt your defeat crash over you like a tsunami. His tongue never lies unless its lying down on some pussy. He wriggles his tongue between your lips with expert level speed. You can’t relax enough to grab hold of his head, so you claw desperately at the window behind you. His strength is put to use to keep your legs from crushing his skull.

“Oh, fuck! Oh fuck!” is all you can say. When he does you like this, you want to beat his ass, and that’s how he likes it. When he comes up for air, he keeps one hand in you and the other unbuckling his pants.

“Whatchu mad for? Huh?” he asks.

You put one foot to his chest to shove him back, lifting yourself up by your elbows. “You’re a damn fool, surprising yourself on me like this.”

He takes your ankle, pushing your leg back. “I’m the one surprised. I almost slipped down there. You been wet this whole time?”  
You help take his dick out his pants, giving your hand some spit to stroke his hardened shaft.

“I ain’t giving you the satisfaction of knowing,” you say through your teeth, taking pleasure in him biting his lip to fight the pleasure of your hand on his third leg. 

“You’ll give it to me,” he says, pulling you closer to him as your leg rests on his shoulder, keeping the other one wrapped around his waist. You keep a hand to his stomach in anticipation but he moves it, pushing into you slowly, you feel your chill break down completely. Your head throws back as you mold yourself to him inch by inch.

“Ah, shit. Make it quick, Yahya. I don’t wanna be caught,” you say under his grip on your neck.

He pushes into you with a quick thrust that makes you howls, leg shaking against him.

“If you think you can shut up, I can,” Yahya warns, picking up his strokes to meet your requirement. You don’t want to cum so fast, but he makes it easy for you with his length curving right against you.

“Fuck! Fuck! It’s too much!” you whine, pushing his chest to let up. His hips spin into you instead, hitting you in a new angle that made your mouth wide and eyes cross. Yahya knew what was coming when you tightened up on him and he smacks his hand over your mouth just in time.

You lose all strength, lying back and howl into his palm unable to do nothing but take it and ride it out. No quicker way to touch the sky than some good dick.

“Yeah, give it to me. I told you you were gonna give it to me,” Yahya brags as you finish climaxing. As Yahya pumps you harder, you find it within you to pull him down to you, licking his lips , his chin, and clawing at his back as you whine in his ear for him to cum inside you.

“I want it. Give it to me, baby. Show me you love it all. Cream the fuck out this pussy.”

“Oh, I love it. Shit! Say that again,” he groans.

“Cream this pussy. Fill it up big daddy, I know you can.”

Yahya and you share a kiss as his hip grind against you. “I love you Yahya! OOH I love this dick!”

“Come on and love me baby. Damn!” He moans in your mouth as you lock him down, taking him in fully. You feel him shudder on top of you as you rub his back, feeling yourself full from within.

“Oh shit. Oh shit, baby, that’s what I wanted since you left the house,” Yahya says with a labored sigh. 

You chuckle, feeling liberated and unbothered by your public indecency. “Yeah? Why didn’t you say something.”

Yahya gave a hoarse laugh. “Ms. Don’t-Ruin-My-Makeup? Yeah, like anything was gonna happen.

You sigh, adjusting your breasts back to their proper place. “You right. Once my tiddies leaked, all that went out the window though.”

You both slip back into your clothes. Yahya finds where he tossed your tights and panties and gives them to you before getting into the car.

“Baby, I am still hungry though. Can we stop by that pizza place I like and get a large pepperoni?” 

“Yes, sweetheart, You can have a kidney if you end a night like this again,” Yahya takes your hand in his as he drives along.

“That was your idea, not mine. But I liked it a lot.” You kiss Yahya’s ear as he drove, gripping his inner thigh and whispering sweet nothings until he got to the pizza place and bought two pizzas.

When you got home, the sitter greeted you both happily.

“So you all had a good time then?” she asks. Her eyes dart over you in a way that you know she can tell something was up.

“WE sure did Tracey, and thank you so much again. I Venmo’d you on the ride over so we are all set,” He goes to set the pizza in the kitchen.

“Thanks! And Leila is sleeping, we had a great time! I have her some crackers and juice before bed around 9 oclock.”

“Excellent. Thanks again. You drive safely.” You wave Tracey farewell and close the door, taking off Yahya’s jacket.

He comes downstairs from checking on Leila. “She is fully intact and breathing,” he reports.

“Oh my sweet baby. Should we wake her so you can see her before you leave in the morning? You know she sleeps through the night now.”

Yahya takes two slices on a plate and sets it on the table. Taking a generous bite he says, “I don’t have to leave yet.”

“Really? I thought the schedule was tight?”

Yahya shakes his head, putting an arm around you. “I can delay a couple more days. It happens anyway when you miss a flight.”

“Who said anything about missing a flight?” 

Yahya puts his slice to your face. “Girl if you don’t eat this pizza and hug on me!” 

“Aw!” You take a bite and wrap your arms around his waist. 

“Plus I don’t wanna leave you stressed. You taking care of Leila all the time, I need to catch up.”

“Good cuz I don’t wanna be woken up early tomorrow, I need my rest.”

“You right. So that means I got breakfast! Fixing a full course meal for my girls,” Yahya says excitedly.

“Uh, no! I don’t need the house burnt down!”

“Here you go! I am a pro in the kitchen. More Michelin stars than the telephone book got names! More bite than Eve with the apple! You loved my breakfast when you were pregnant!” 

“Yeah yeah, but I haven’t had it since. Let me go shower.” 

AS you start to get up Yahya pulls you back, putting down his slice. “Uh uh, one more round before you go.”

“What? No! I gotta freshen up!” 

Yahya is already laying you down and playing a scavenger hunt with your body. “You know why people don’t make their bed? Don’t make no sense if Imma make you dirty all over again.”


End file.
